


Bad Habits

by adrunkgiraffe



Category: Star Trek: The Original Series
Genre: Fluff, Grumpy - Freeform, Leonard has feelings, Like, M/M, Near Death Experiences, a lot of math, more than you would expect from an art history major, sickbay
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-12
Updated: 2021-01-31
Packaged: 2021-03-07 23:55:16
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,383
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26962516
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/adrunkgiraffe/pseuds/adrunkgiraffe
Summary: Spock gets lectured on safe landing party procedure. No, it's not because Bones cares about him. shut up. Numbers are calculated.
Relationships: Leonard "Bones" McCoy/Spock
Comments: 11
Kudos: 102





	1. Chapter 1

“Doctor, I do not see the logic in-”

“Screw you and your logic, we need to have a serious conversation here.” McCoy was in such bad sorts that one might think he were the one nearly pulverised by what had turned out not to be a distant cousin of the Earth Koala, but rather a very small and fuzzy version of the Selhat. If one didn’t see the many scars adorning Spock’s face, that is. 

Kirk had long since removed himself from sickbay, having made it out of the situation relatively unharmed, and having already reprimanded the vulcan for jumping in front of the other officers when they could, and did, subdue the creature. He knew that Bones would take care of the rest in his own way.

“About what, Doctor?” Spock asked, putting up an innocent front. He tried and failed to raise his eyebrows to their full, mocking, height, the pain of manipulating his scarred forehead forcing out a momentary wince, which was almost more worrying to the doctor than the injury itself.

“You know god damn well about what, Spock!” McCoy shouted, more panicky than he’d ever admit out loud. “About your seemingly instinctive habit of jumping into the firing line for no good reason. It’s irritating, illogical, and slowly driving me nuts.” 

“Illogical?” Spock attempted once more to furrow his brow, “What is illogical about pushing one’s fellow officers out of harm’s way when in danger? If I endeavour to focus all damage towards myself, the other officers can get away, thus lowering the risk to a larger portion of our crew.”

“It’s illogical when it ends up making our first officer nearly comatose, and the rest of his team has to phaser a rabid beast just to get him to sick bay, for one.” McCoy answered, raising an eyebrow in what Spock swore was a mockery of his own inabilities.

“I did not expect that the creature would be able to catch or throw the rock launched at it. Thus, I did not expect to be ‘knocked out.’” Spock answered, attempting to stand so that he might leave the conversation. Until, of course, McCoy noticed what he was doing. 

“Oh no you don’t. You are nowhere near ready to get up again.” Bones pushed Spock back down to where he had been sitting, patiently, on the biobed.

“Doctor McCoy, while a human might take longer to recover from a concussion, I assure you that I, being a vulcan, am fine. Please allow me to resume my duties.” Again, he attempted to leave, and again McCoy would not let him. All the better, for he got further this time and was only stopped by a small dizzy spell which caused him to stop, too lightheaded for a third attempt.

“I don’t think so.” McCoy answered, “You’ll get the same from Jim, if you try. You are not to be permitted outside sickbay until I say so, an’ I don’t say so at least until you hear me out.”

“Very well.” the vulcan conceded, if only because the dizzy feeling refused to end. 

“Okay, so how many times, by your estimate, have you ended up on this very biobed, in some form of drastic injury, illness, or plain old exhaustion?” it took a few moments for the vulcan to compute. 

“532.5, in total, doctor.” He replied easily, adding “I am counting the times I was not on this biobed as .5.” in response to McCoy’s confusion.

“And when you add the on-site care I’ve had to do?” McCoy prodded. “and count every time fully, you green-blooded smart alec.”

“It increases to 587.” Spock answered another momentary pause later.

“Okay, you computer. Now, of those instances, how many could have been averted by your stepping out of the way of an attack meant for a fellow officer?”

“25”

“How many could have been avoided or treated before severe symptoms appeared had you come in for the most recent routine physical before they arrived?”

“75”

“How many could have been avoided if, upon request by the captain, you had taken rest or leave to recuperate your senses?”

“32”

“How many could have been avoided if, upon request by me, you had gone to bed or eaten something or remembered to keep track of your own body temperature?”

“197” Spock answered. “Not counting those instances in which the captain voiced concern as well.”

“Good, you’ve caught on.” McCoy nodded. “Add that number up for me, will you?”

“329” Spock recited. “Your point, doctor?”

McCoy sighed. “My point is that the life of a Starfleet first officer is risky enough without multiplying that risk by overestimating one’s own abilities. I do not deny that you are stronger than your average bear, but I also don’t think you’re strong enough for that to warrant becoming a green-blooded shield every time something goes bump in the night! I mean, have you ever thought that maybe, just maybe, we need you here more than we need you to die for us? That, maybe, some of us might care very much if our first officer up and died to prevent something that might not even have happened?” McCoy felt the panic climb back into his throat, so much so that he had to catch his breath for a few seconds. In this time, Spock attempted once more to defend himself.

“Doctor-”

“All I am asking, Spock, is that you consider the ramifications of  _ your _ loss as well when you’re in this situation, not just the danger being posed to others.” McCoy had quietened. “I know, needs of the many, all that vulcan crap. But...consider that some of us may...need you here.”

“I will endeavour to do so, doctor.” 

“Thank you.” The tone in Spock’s voice conveyed that he would actually try this time, which made McCoy’s chest feel that much lighter, even if he wouldn’t admit it. “Now, get back to the bridge. Your calculation speed at least proves you’re somewhat recovered.” He turned away, a bit of emotion coming to the surface which he didn’t quite want the Vulcan to see.

“Yes, Doctor.”

“But only as long as your shift entails. No overexertion for at least a week.”

“Yes, Doctor.”

“And stay seated if you can, especially if dizziness persists, which I suspect it will.”

“Yes, Doctor.”

“And I’m stopping by your quarters when you get off shift. Possibly with bourbon.”

“Yes, Leonard.” The shift was nigh imperceptible, but did prove the man was listening. 

“Okay, now you can actually go.”

“Yes Doctor.”

McCoy felt a soft touch of fingers against his before Spock turned to leave. 

“One more thing.” 

“Yes, Doctor?”

“Tell anyone I said I needed you, and you are a dead vulcan.” 

As the medbay doors opened, McCoy hated that he could  _ sense  _ Spock’s not-smile.

“...Yes, Doctor.” 


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The shoe is on the other foot. Caring is a human emotion.

Bones knew he was in trouble the moment his eyes opened and Doctor M’Benga and Nurse Chapel weren’t immediately visible. He’d been cordoned off to the biobed after the Viasan incident, some drivel about “needing his rest” which he didn’t particularly believe. The empath had healed him, after all, so did the bedrest protocol really even apply to this situation?

The rational part of him - and yes, it did exist, thank you very much - told him it very much did still apply. For one, his ribs, though mostly healed, still gave off little pops of pain when he shifted his body up. Secondly, it was written into the additional medical protocols he had written to stop Jim and Spock from running off the second they could after severe injuries. 

Speaking of which, when he did manage to hobble himself into a sitting position, he finally noticed that the aforementioned Captain and First officer were looming over him. Jim was wearing his patented “I’m not mad, just disappointed” face, which didn’t really work when he was very obviously madder than a...he was too tired to come up with a country aphorism for that one. Spock, meanwhile, looked rather placid, but it was that cold kind of placid he had when McCoy said something uncouth or smug. A bad placid. 

“Now, listen, I know I’ve stepped in it but you have to understand-”

“Really, Doctor? You’ve stepped in it?” Kirk smiled, but it was the polite smile he gave when someone accidentally messed up in the worst way possible, “You’ve ‘stepped in it’ by ignoring the chain of command, drugging your captain  _ and  _ your first officer - in  _ explicit  _ opposition to your orders - all so you could get yourself killed? I never would have guessed!” 

“Jim-” McCoy tried to calm him. 

“Don’t  _ Jim  _ me, Bones! You could have  _ died.  _ You almost  _ did!”  _

“It was the only way to stop you from dying!” McCoy winced as he leant forward, which at least had the effect of making Jim stop momentarily. 

“Incorrect, Doctor.” Spock’s icy tone cut in, “If you recall, not only was the captain given the option to send me into the fray-”

“And leave you more out of your Vulcan mind than usual.”

“- _ But,”  _ Kirk finished Spock’s thought, “we were already planning a way out of it. You could have put resources towards that instead of towards self sacrifice.”

“Don’t  _ you  _ talk to me about resources, this was your  _ life- _ ”

“ _ Shut up!  _ If you weren’t so  _ injured  _ I’d have you  _ court martialed.”  _ The shout hung in the air for an uncomfortable five minutes of silence.

“No you wouldn’t.” Bones finally replied. “Cause I did exactly what you would have done.”

“That’s not the point.” Kirk groused, now fully reversing their roles, even placing a warm hand on McCoy’s shoulder. The prick. “I don’t want to lose my CMO. Especially not if he’s the one who made me lose him. You’re not even supposed to be on away missions in the first place.” 

“Speak for yourself, Captain.” Bones joked, easily evading the too-strong emotions spurred by Kirk’s words. 

“Yeah, I know. Get better so I can get back to being the irresponsible one.” Kirk laughed and left, stranding McCoy with Spock, who he didn’t fail to notice was still silently seething. He could tell, because his stoicism was sterner than usual. 

“You think he should have court martialed me, don’t you.” 

“That would be illogical.” Spock replied coolly, still looming over Bones. “After all, you would be unlikely to learn from such an experience. And, if you were to face the full consequences of a discharge from Starfleet, that would defeat the purpose of ensuring that we did not lose you.”

“We?” McCoy quirked an eyebrow.

“Of course. It would not do to lose our Chief Medical Officer so suddenly. Additionally, in spite of certain shortfallings, you are among the most capable to fill that role.”

“That’s an odd way of saying you care about me.” McCoy grumbled without any real bite.

“Caring is a human emotion.” The half-human protested far too quickly. 

“Uh huh.” McCoy smirked slightly.

“Though I would remind you it was  _ you  _ who pointed out that, in your own words, ‘The life of a Starfleet first officer is risky enough without multiplying that risk by overestimating one’s own abilities.’” Shit. He remembered. “You may not have gotten into 587 near death experiences, but that is only because you are not a combat officer, which only makes your predilection to thrust yourself into danger that much more puzzling. Did it not occur to you that you might be needed on this ship as well?”

“How did you remember that number so exactly?” 

“It was a very apt object lesson, Doctor.” He complimented blithely. “Answer the question.”

“Listen, Spock. I’m old. And useless in combat. I know both M’Benga and Chapel would make fine replacements for me, and that it’s far more difficult to replace you or Jim at the helm. So, it made a lot more sense for me to be the one to lose.” He felt himself getting choked up and quickly added “Besides, I’m under oath to do no harm.” 

“You dosed me with Tranquilizers, Doctor.” 

“If I hadn’t, they would have tortured you until you went insane.” McCoy continued to deflect

“I would have gone insane if you had died, as well.” 

Oh.  _ Oh.  _ Spock’s hand reached out and grabbed McCoy by the shoulder as he froze, still processing that statement. In trying to communicate his feelings through eye contact alone, Spock was being about as emotionally honest as he could.

_ Oh.  _

“You cannot possibly think that I would rather you die than I lose my mind.” 

“Well that Vulcan pride of yours-” 

“ _ Leonard.”  _ Spock stopped his deflective joking in its tracks, “Please.” 

If he was in a better position, McCoy might have cracked wise again. Something about this being the first time the Vulcan had ever made a true, unironic emotional appeal to him. Instead, he leaned forward as far as he could from the biobed, trusting Spock to meet him halfway. 

The kiss was too brief, and too light. A peck on the lips and just the barest brush of their fingers against each other. However, McCoy was an adult, and definitely did not let out a very embarrassing sound when Spock pulled away. 

“It would not do to further injure you while lecturing you about injuring yourself.” He almost whispered, by way of explanation. 

“You’re enjoying this you sadist.”

“Of course not, Doctor. You are once again ascribing me human emotions.” The statement was light, rather than the defensive one earlier, which made it all the more funny. Unfortunately, McCoy’s ribs did not find it quite as funny.

“Alright, alright. I get it.” He gripped at his side pathetically, “We both need to tone down this whole dying for each other thing.”

“Good.” Spock showed a rare half-smile. “And Leonard?”  
“Yes, Spock?” McCoy still felt his stomach do a funny turn at the first name use, though this was far from the first time.

“I am going to hide your bourbon for a while. Just to prevent any self-medication that would interfere with the medication that Dr. M’Benga gave you.” And with that, Spock left, but not without McCoy shouting after him. 

“You touch my bourbon, you’re a dead Vulcan!” 

Of course, McCoy was half smiling as he shouted it, but Spock didn’t need to know that. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> bet you thought you'd seen the last of me.

**Author's Note:**

> eyyyy it's been a while. Multichapter stuff is probably coming soon. probably.


End file.
